My Lover's Box
by thursday's angel
Summary: Dean is struggling to work out what his feelings for Castiel are.   Yes, there's slash,  but it's my first, so please review!


I've never written slash fiction before, but the relationship and chemistry between Dean and Castiel is the only one that's every tempted me to overcome my blushes.

I think it started the first time that Dean called him 'Cas' and I had a little fangirl moment. And of course, it helps that they're both really, really fit.

**My Lover's Box**

There were times when it seemed to Dean that he'd spent more of his life on the road than anywhere else and now, driving down another dark, empty road in the middle of the night, he was finding it hard to concentrate.

Sam was fast asleep in the passenger seat; every now and then a contented snore would escape, which was kind of unusual, but Dean was happy to put up with this annoyance if it meant the kid was finally getting some shuteye. He knew neither of them got anything like enough sleep, but that was kind of an occupational hazard, along with everything else.

The radio was playing quietly, some local rock station with a pretty good selection.

"And now on KKGL, on the night shift, time for something a little different, from the 90's, all the way from Scotland, this is Garbage with 'My Lover's Box'," the DJ announced, with a little too much enthusiasm for the hour and Dean wondered what the hell kind of a name was Garbage for a band. Might as well call yourself, 'Pile of Crap' or 'We're No Good'.

But they were good, in a weird kind of way and Dean listened. Anything to break the monotony of the drive. The woman singing had a sultry voice, husky even and Dean tried to picture what she looked like in his head. Then stopped abruptly as he realised he was paying a little too much attention to what he was imagining, instead of the road.

"_My lover's charms  
Are in a box beneath my bed  
And piece by piece  
I'll cherish them until the end_

Send me an angel to love  
I need to feel a little piece of heaven  
Send me an angel to love  
I'm afraid I'll never get to heaven."  


Oh crap.

She had to go and mention angels, didn't she? And Dean had been trying so hard not to think about them recently.

One especially.

It was understandable that he'd have a hard time figuring out how to feel about Castiel; after all, it wasn't like he was a regular guy and their relationship had been skewed from the start. How was anyone supposed to feel about someone who'd pulled you out of Hell and set you on this stupid Angels vs Demons kick they were currently on?

But that wasn't why Dean was confused.

Recently, thinking about Cas had begun to take a new path, one Dean had never thought he'd take, not in a million years. Not that he was homophobic or anything – after all, what other people did with their own lives was their business and why should he care – but Dean Winchester, turning to the other team?

Wasn't that like, say, Steven Tyler or Mick Jagger announcing they'd had enough of chicks and were starting on guys, surely?

But then Cas wasn't strictly a guy; was it the same if it was an angel you were struggling with your feelings for, a real angel? After all, in their pure form, they weren't the same as humans, so maybe it was more than physical? Or not even physical at all?

It hadn't been like this with Anna, but then that had been before Anna got her Grace back, been almost human and when they were together in the back of the car, it hadn't seemed like she was an angel. She wasn't like any other girl he'd been with, true, but she'd felt human enough, whereas Cas still struggled with many basic human concepts and sex was one of them.

And then there was the issue of Jimmy, which generally had the same effect as a bucket of cold water whenever it occurred to Dean. He had no idea how much the angel's vessel was aware of what was going on, but he knew the guy had a wife and family somewhere, and might not appreciate waking up after Castiel's occupation of his body ended with memories of the kind of situation Dean was trying not to envision.

But despite all this, Dean couldn't stop thinking, wondering what these feelings meant. Trying to understand what he really wanted. What it felt like whenever Cas touched him, however casual or innocent that touch might be.

It didn't seem right to think of what went through his mind – or his body – at those times as desire.

Damnit, things used to be so simple. Well, some things. It was hard for anything to be simple when every day was life-or-death, end of the world stuff and you'd died and come back so many times they might as well go right ahead and replace the Pearly Gates with a revolving door.

But when it came to a girl, it was rare for things to get complicated. If he wanted her, then he'd pursue her and if she was willing, great. Then he'd up and leave and that would be that.

There'd been a few to make more of an impact. Lisa, Cassie, even Jo, in her own way, but deep down, he'd always known nothing could ever come of those feelings, so he'd repressed them and moved on.

Why was it so hard to do that now?

And the dreams weren't helping.

There'd been several now, some blurry and difficult to remember, some unfortunately all too clear, springing up in his memory now like those stupid pop-up ads on the internet.

The woman on the radio was still calling for an angel to love, and Dean switched it off in irritation.

"Like I need any more complications," he muttered to himself, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Sam up.

"What complications?" Castiel asked from the back seat and Dean damn near crashed the car.

"Damnit, Cas, don't _do_ that!"

"You were thinking about me. I thought that meant you needed me."

Dean, momentarily thrown and caught completely off guard, found that he was blushing. Actually, blushing. He hadn't blushed since, what, first grade? What the hell was going on?

"You can hear what I'm thinking? From anywhere?"

"In a manner of speaking. There are many other things that require my attention, but yes, when you think of me, I can hear it."

"You mean, you know that I'm thinking about you, or actual words?"

Dean risked making eye contact with the angel in the rear view mirror. Castiel's dark blue eyes were unreadable; nothing unusual there. Just a serious expression that seemed to be growing more intense as time went by.

"You desire me sexually."

As with most of what Castiel said, this was a flat statement, not a question, with very little intonation. Difficult to know what the thoughts were behind the words.

"What? No! I mean-"

Dean found he had no real answer to that.

"Can we not talk about this now?"

He glanced at his sleeping brother in the seat next to him. Or at least he hoped he was still asleep; the last thing he needed right then was for Sam to overhear the angel's proclamation.

"We should discuss this situation."

"Maybe," Dean relented. "But not now. Not here."

There was a pause as the angel considered.

"Very well."

And he was gone again, as abruptly as he'd appeared.

Now what?

So much for trying to hide his feelings, his confusion.

Shaking his head, Dean pressed down on the accelerator, trying to channel unwanted emotions into actions, the only way he knew how.

It was late the next night when Dean made it back to the motel room after a long day chasing apocalyptic omens. Man, he'd be glad if he never saw another locust again, and so would most of the residents of Boise, he imagined.

Sam was still out, having hit it off with Dana, the shapely entomologist who'd been helping them with their enquiries. Dean had thought about hitting a few bars, maybe trying to pick up a girl himself but the encounter with Tall, Dark and Trench Coat earlier had put him off and all he wanted was to crash out by himself for a while.

The second he opened the door, though, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

Castiel was sitting on the bed, waiting for him.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah. Figured."

Dean dumped his jacket and keys down and picked up a beer from the box on the table. Cracked it open and gulped down half of it in one mouthful.

"Look, Cas-"

"Dean. I understand your reticence."

"Do you."

"Not really."

Castiel had that very direct look in his eyes again and Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going on behind them. The face might technically be human, but there was something indefinably different about the way Castiel wore it, more than a hint of the angel inside the man.

"Dean, I have been watching the world for thousands of years. But I am not human, even when I possess human form. There is a lot that I do not really comprehend about your rituals."

"Rituals. Huh, that's one word for it."

Castiel stood up and came closer to Dean.

"For a very, very long time I have been doing as I was commanded and nothing else. Since I came down here, things have changed."

"You don't say."

"You have to realize; as an angel, I didn't used to think of myself as 'I' in the way that I do now. You have an advantage over me."

"As a human? Yeah, I guess."

"So – I'm asking you for help. To understand."

"I'm not sure I'm the person to be asking. I'm not exactly the go-to guy for dealing with feelings. I, uh, tend to follow my impulses and deal with the rest as it comes."

"And what are your impulses now?"

Dean sighed and put down the beer. This had been a lot simpler with Anna. But then again, he hadn't had feelings for Anna, beyond a basic attraction and now that he and Cas were alone together, he couldn't keep on denying that he did have feelings for him. He hadn't been sure what they were, before, but here, now, in such close proximity, they were hard to ignore.

"Alright, yes! You're right. I – you know."

"You desire me."

"Can we please not call it that?"

Dean wasn't used to opening himself up to such vulnerability. There were so few people in the world he cared about, let get close. He spent his life hunting scary things and to find out he was more scared of dealing with his emotions than anything else… well, it had always been easier to push them away.

"I am unused to putting such things into words. What would you prefer?"

"I don't know, Cas! You confuse the hell out of me, that's all I know!"

There was a pause, and then Castiel took that final step closer and kissed Dean full on the mouth, his hand on the back of Dean's neck. Startled, Dean found that he was responding to the kiss before his mind had caught up with what was happening and by then it was far too late to stop it. Not that he wanted to.

As with any time Castiel had touched him, there was a slight tingling, like static electricity or the presence of high magic and it spread throughout his body as Castiel pressed up against him and the kiss became a whole lot more serious.

The first thing to go was that damn trench coat. He'd never seen Cas not wearing it, as if the clothing was the same to him as putting on a human body, and he wanted suddenly, urgently, to know what was underneath. Castiel was stripping off Dean's own shirt just as insistently as the two of them moved over to the bed, falling onto it almost by accident, so intent were they on each other.

This was new to both of them, Dean because he'd only ever slept with women before, and Castiel because pretty much everything was new to him, since coming to Earth, and neither were quite sure how this would play out, but both wanted this to last, despite other impulses that suggested otherwise.

Clothing was dragged off, flung across the room carelessly as they explored each other further. Dean found that the static sensation became more intense as he caressed Castiel's skin, wondered if his partner felt the same. He drew back for a second, staring into Cas's eyes. Saw desire of such depth and force reflected it made him catch his breath.

Their passion was almost aggressive in its manifestation, kissing and caressing almost violently as they wrestled on the bed, each undressing the other until both were naked. Their hands covered every inch of the other's body, their mouths so intent on the other's the kiss remained unbroken. Castiel's fingers traced the tattoo on Dean's chest, the multitude of new scars he'd managed to acquire in the short time since his resurrection - though the handprint left when he'd dragged Dean from Hell, Cas noted, had faded away - then slid lower into a more intimate caress and Dean followed suit. Lying side by side, lips locked together, the pair held onto each other as they struggled towards climax.

When it swept over them, its depth and intensity took both by surprise, overwhelming any lingering doubts either might have about their coupling, so that they felt bound together by the experience.

And as they lay wrapped up in each other, their breathing and heart rate returning to normal, the hunter and the fallen angel felt something very like peace.

**Disclaimer**: Title and lyrics by Garbage; obviously Dean and Castiel aren't mine either, more's the pity.


End file.
